Miss C is on a kick where she announces that she is changing her name to something exotic. Kind of like moms picking their pretend stripper name, but G rated.
Overheard in my car just this week as Miss C and I were on our way to pick up Miss A from daycare and head to weekly soccer practice:
“Mommy, my name is not Miss C any more. It’s Island Princess Anastasia Ariel.”
“OK…you’re name is Barbie Island Princess Anastasia Ariel. Right?”
“No, no, not Barbie. I’m just a girl. It’s Island Princess Anastasia Ariel!” (Rolls eyes in the exaggerated whatever mom/as if/you’re so clueless gesture.)
The new Barbie Island Princess lineup has been launched just in time for Christmas wish lists. Miss C has already announced that she wants to dress up as this new Barbie for Halloween and is longing for every Barbie Island Princess toy she sees advertised on TV. And lo and behold what did my wandering eyes see at our school book fair family night but a Barbie Island Princess book on a table strategically positioned near the entrance of the library. This was no ordinary book, mind you, as it came with an enticing cheap detachable plastic purple hair comb. Every 5 and 6-year-old girl within a 30-mile radius of our elementary school was at book fair family night running willy nilly with the Barbie book in one hand, the comb in the other, and a crazed “I must have it” look in their eye. It was like Filene’s Basement for kids. Miss A, already a discriminating consumer, made a beeline toward the Dora and Diego books, which were, not surprisingly, placed on the lowest shelves.
My dreams of adding some literary masterpieces to the girls’ library, perhaps a Caldecott Medal winner or a childhood favorite, were dashed. I’ll be buying those classic gems when I don’t have two children in tow.
You slick marketing people have the little girls’ market pegged don’t you? Let me just hand you my wallet now, OK?
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